JESSIE'S CONTRITION.
After leaving Mrs. Nairn, Carroll walked towards Horsfield's residence
in a thoughtful mood, because he felt it incumbent upon him to play a
part he was not particularly fitted for in a somewhat delicate matter.
Uncongenial as his task was, it was one which could not be left to Vane,
who was even less to be trusted with the handling of such affairs; and
Carroll had resolved, as he would have described it, to straighten out
things.
His partner had somehow offended Evelyn, and though she was now disposed
to forgive him, the recollection of his suppositious iniquity might
afterwards rankle in her mind. Though Vane was innocent of any conduct
she could with reason take exception to, it was first of all needful to
ascertain the exact nature of the charge against him. Carroll, who had
for several reasons preferred not to press this question upon Evelyn,
had a strong suspicion that Jessie Horsfield was at the bottom of the
trouble. There was also a clue to follow--Vane had paid the rent of
Celia Hartley's shack; and he wondered if Jessie could by any means have
heard of it. If she had done so the matter would be simplified, because
he had a profound distrust of her. A recent action of hers was, he
thought, sufficient to justify this attitude.
He found her at home, reclining gracefully in an easy-chair in her
drawing-room, and though she did not seem astonished to see him, he
fancied her expression hinted at suppressed concern.
"I heard you had arrived alone, and I intended to come over and make
inquiries as soon as I thought Mrs. Nairn would be at liberty," she
informed him.
Carroll had found the direct attack effective in Evelyn's case, and he
determined to try it again. "Then," he began, "it says a good deal for
your courage." He had never doubted that she possessed the latter
quality, and she displayed it now.
"So," she said calmly, "you have come as an enemy."
"Not exactly; it didn't seem worth while. Though there's no doubt you
betrayed us--Vane waited for the warning you could have sent--so far as
it concerns our ruined interests in the Clermont, the thing's done and
can't be mended. We'll let that question go. The most important point is
that if you had recalled us, as you promised, Vane would now be safe and
sound."
This shot told. The girl's face became less imperturbable; there was
eagerness and a suggestion of fear in it. "Then has any accident
happened to him?" she asked sharply.
"He's lying in the bush, helpless, in imminent peril of starvation."
"Go on," said the girl, with signs of strain clearly perceptible in her
voice.
Carroll was brief, but he made her understand the position, after which
she turned upon him imperiously. "Then why are you wasting your time
here?"
"It's a reasonable question. I can't get a tug to take me back until
noon to-morrow."
"Ah!" said Jessie, and added: "You will excuse me for a minute."
She left him astonished. He had not expected her to take him at a
disadvantage, as she had done with her previous thrust, and now he did
not think she had slipped away to hide her feelings. That did not seem
necessary in Jessie's case, though he believed she was more or less
disturbed. She came back presently, looking calm, and sat down again.
"My brother will be here in a quarter of an hour," she informed him.
"Things are rather slack, and he had half promised to take me for a
drive; I have called him up through the telephone."
Carroll did not see how this bore upon the subject of their
conversation, but he left her to take the lead.
"Did Vane tell you I had promised to warn him?" she asked.
"To do him justice, he let it out before he quite realised what he was
saying. I'd better own that I partly surprised him into giving me the
information."
"The expedient seems a favourite one with you," said Jessie. "I suppose
no news of what has happened here can have reached him?"
"None. If it's any consolation, he has still an unshaken confidence in
you." Carroll assured her with blunt bitterness.
The girl showed faint signs of confusion, but she sat silent for the
next few moments, and during them it flashed upon her companion with
illuminating light that he had heard Celia Hartley say Miss Horsfield
had found her orders for millinery. This confirmed his previous
suspicion that Jessie had discovered who had paid the rent of Celia's
shack, and that she had with deliberate malice informed Evelyn,
distorting her account so that it would tell against Vane. There were
breaks in the chain of reasoning which led him to this conclusion, but
he did not think Jessie would shrink from such a course, and he
determined to try a chance shot.
"Vane's inclined to be trustful and his rash generosity has once or
twice got him into trouble," he remarked, and went on as if an
explanation were needed: "It's Miss Hartley's case I'm thinking about
just now. I've an idea he asked you to look after her. Am I right?"
As soon as he had spoken he knew he had hit the mark. Jessie did not
openly betray herself, but there are not many people who can remain
absolutely unmoved when unexpectedly asked a startling question.
Besides, the man was observant, and had strung up all his faculties for
the encounter. He saw one of her hands tighten on the arm of her chair
and a hint of uneasiness in her eyes, and it sufficed him.
"Yes," she said; "I recommended her to some of my friends. I understand
she is getting along satisfactorily."
Carroll felt compelled to admire her manner. He believed she loved his
comrade and had nevertheless tried to ruin him in a fit of jealous rage.
She was now keenly regretting her success, but though he thought she
deserved to suffer, she was bravely facing the trying situation. It was
one that was rife with dramatic possibilities, and he was grateful to
her for avoiding them.
"You are going back to-morrow," she said after a brief silence. "I
suppose you will have to tell your partner what you have discovered here
as soon as you reach him?"
Carroll had not intended to spare her, but now he felt almost
compassionate, and he had one grain of comfort to offer. "I must tell
him that his shares in the Clermont have been sacrificed. I wonder if
that is all you meant?"
Jessie met his inquiring gaze with something very like an appeal; and
then spread out her hands in a manner to indicate that she threw herself
upon his mercy.
"It is not all I meant," she confessed.
"Then, if it's any relief to you, I'll confine myself to telling him
that he has been deprived of his most valuable property. I dare say the
news will hit him hard enough; but though he may afterwards discover
other facts for himself, on the whole I shouldn't consider it likely. As
I said, he's confiding and slow to suspect."
He read genuine gratitude, which he had hardly expected, in the girl's
face; but he raised his hand and went on in the rather formal manner
which he felt was the only safe one to assume. "I had, however, better
mention that I am going to call upon Miss Hartley. After that I shall be
uncommonly thankful to start back for the bush." He paused, and
concluded with a sudden trace of humour: "I'll own that I feel more at
home with the work that waits me there."
Jessie made a little gesture which, while it might have meant anything,
was somehow very expressive, and just then there were footsteps outside.
Next moment Horsfield walked into the room.
"So you're back," he said.
"Yes," said Carroll shortly. "Beaten at both ends--there's no use in
hiding it."
Horsfield showed no sign of satisfaction, and Carroll afterwards
admitted that the man behaved very considerately.
"Well," he said, "though you may be surprised to hear it, I'm sorry.
Unfortunately, our interests clashed, and I naturally looked after mine.
Once upon a time, I thought I could have worked hand in hand with Vane;
but our ideas did not coincide, and your partner is not the man to yield
a point or listen to advice."
Carroll was aware that Horsfield had by means which were far from
honourable deprived him of a considerable portion of his possessions. He
had also betrayed his fellow shareholders in the Clermont mine, selling
their interests, doubtless for some benefit to himself, to another
company. For all that, Carroll recognised that since he and Vane were
beaten, as he had confessed, recriminations and reproaches would be
useless as well as undignified. He preferred to face defeat calmly.
"It's the fortune of war," he replied. "What you say about Vane is
correct; but although it is not a matter of much importance now, it was
impossible from the beginning that your views and his ever should
agree."
"Too great a difference of temperament? I dare say you're right. Vane
measures things by a different standard--mine's perhaps more adapted to
the market-place. But where have you left him?"
"In the bush. Miss Horsfield will, no doubt, give you particulars; I've
just told her the tale."
"She called me up at the office and asked me to come across at once.
Will you excuse us for a few minutes?"
They went out together, and Jessie, who came back alone, sat down and
looked at Carroll in a diffident manner.
"I suppose," she said, "one could hardly expect you to think of either
of us very leniently; but I must ask you to believe that I am sincerely
distressed to hear of your partner's accident. This was a thing I could
never have anticipated; but there are amends I can make. Every minute
you can save is precious, isn't it?"
Carroll agreed, and she resumed: "Then I can get you a tug. My brother
tells me the Atlin's coming across from Victoria and should be here
early this evening. He has gone back to the office to secure her for
you, though she was fixed to go off for a log boom."
"Thank you," said Carroll. "It's a great service."
Jessie hesitated. "I think my brother would like to say a few words when
he returns. Can I offer you some tea?"
"I think not," said Carroll, smiling. "For one thing, if I sit still
much longer, I shall, no doubt, go to sleep again, as I did at Nairn's,
which would be neither seemly nor convenient, if I'm to sail this
evening. Besides, now we've arranged an armistice, it might be wiser not
to put too much strain on it!"
"An armistice?"
"I think that describes it." Carroll's manner grew significant. "The
word implies a cessation of hostilities--on certain terms."
Jessie could take a hint, and his meaning was clear. Unless she forced
him to do so, he would not betray her to his comrade, who might never
discover the part she had played; but he had given her a warning, which
might be bluntly rendered as, "Hands off." There was only one course
open to her--to respect it. She had brought down the man she loved, but
it was clear that he was not for her, and now the unreasoning fury which
had driven her to strike had passed, she was troubled with contrition.
There was nothing left except to retire from the field, and it was
better to do so gracefully. For all that, there were signs of strain in
her expression as she capitulated.
"Well," she said, "I have given you a proof that you have nothing to
fear from me. My brother is the only man in Vancouver who could have got
you that tug for this evening; I understand the saw-mill people are very
much in need of the logs she was engaged to tow."
She held out her hand and Carroll took it, though he had not expected to
part from her on friendly terms.
"I owe you a deal for that," he said and turned away.
His task, however, was only half complete when he left the house, and
the remaining portion was the more difficult, but he meant to finish it.
He preferred to take life lightly; he had trifled with it before
disaster had driven him out into the wilds; but there was resolution in
the man, and he could force himself to play an unpleasant part when it
was needful. Fortune also favoured him, as she often does those who
follow the boldest course.
He had entered Hastings Street when he met Kitty and Celia. The latter
looked thin and somewhat pale, but she was moving briskly, and her face
was eager when she shook hands with him.
"We have been anxious about you--there was no news," she said. "Is Mr.
Vane with you? How have you got on?"
"We found the spruce," said Carroll. "It's not worth milling--a forest
fire has wiped most of it out--but we struck some shingling cedar we may
make something of."
"But where's Mr. Vane?"
"In the bush; I've a good deal to tell you about him, but we can't talk
here. I wonder if we could find a quiet place in a restaurant, or if the
park would be better."
"The park," said Kitty decidedly.
They reached it in due time and Carroll, who had refused to say anything
about Vane on the way, found the girls a seat in a grove of giant firs
and sat down opposite to them. Though it was winter, the day, as is
often the case near Vancouver, was pleasantly mild.
"Now," he began, "my partner is a singularly unfortunate person. In the
first place, the transfer of the Clermont property, which you have no
doubt heard of, means a serious loss to him, though he is not ruined
yet. He talks of putting up a shingling mill, in which Drayton will be
of service, and if things turn out satisfactory you will be given an
interest in it."
He added the last sentence as an experiment, and was satisfied with the
result.
"Never mind our interests," cried Kitty. "What about Mr. Vane?"
For the third time since his arrival, Carroll made the strongest appeal
he could to womanly pity, drawing with a purpose a vivid picture of his
comrade's peril and suffering. Nor was he disappointed, for he saw
consternation, compassion, and sympathy in the girls' faces. So far, the
thing had been easy, but now he hesitated, and it was with difficulty he
nerved himself for what must follow.
"He has been beaten out of his stock in the mine; he's broken down in
health and in danger; but, by comparison, that doesn't count for very
much with him," he continued. "He has another trouble, and though I'm
afraid I'm giving things away in mentioning it, if it could be got over,
it would help him to face the future and set him on his feet again."
Then he briefly recounted the story of Vane's regard for Evelyn, making
the most of his sacrifice in withdrawing from the field, and again he
realised that he had acted wisely. A love affair appealed to his
listeners, and there was a romance in this one that heightened the
effect of it.
"But Miss Chisholm can't mean to turn from him now," said Celia.
Carroll looked at her meaningly. "No; she turned from him before he
sailed. She heard something about him."
His companions appeared astonished. "But she couldn't have heard
anything that anybody could mind," Kitty exclaimed indignantly. "He's
not that kind of man."
"It's a compliment," said Carroll. "I think he deserves it. At the same
time, he's a little rash, and now and then a man's generosity is open to
misconception. In this case, I don't think one could altogether blame
Miss Chisholm."
Kitty glanced at him sharply and then at Celia, who at first looked
puzzled and afterwards startled. Then the blood surged into Kitty's
cheeks. "Oh!" she said, as if she were breathless, "I was once afraid of
something like this. You mean we're the cause of it?"
The course he followed was hateful to Carroll, but the tangle could not
be straightened without somebody's feelings being hurt, and it was his
comrade he was most concerned about.
"Yes," he said quietly; "I believe you understand the situation."
He saw the fire in Kitty's eyes and that Celia's face was also flushed,
but he did not think their anger was directed against him. They knew the
world they lived in, and, for that matter, he could share their
indignation. He resented the fact that a little thing should bring such
swift suspicion upon them. He was, however, not required to face any
disconcerting climax.
"Well," said Celia, "why did you tell us this?"
"I think you both owe Vane something, and you can do him a great favour
now," Carroll informed her.
Kitty looked up at him. "Don't ask me too much, Mr. Carroll. I'm Irish,
and I feel like killing somebody."
"It's natural," said Carroll, with a sympathetic smile. "I've now and
then felt much the same thing; it's probably unavoidable in a world like
this. However, I think you ought to call upon Miss Chisholm, after I've
gone, though you had better not mention that I sent you. You can say you
came for news of Vane--and add anything you consider necessary."
The girls looked at one another, and at length, though it obviously cost
her a struggle, Kitty said to Celia firmly: "We will have to go." Then
she faced round towards Carroll. "If Miss Chisholm won't believe us
she'll be sorry we came."
Carroll made her a slight inclination. "She'll deserve it, if she's not
convinced. But it might be better if you didn't approach her in the mood
you're in just now."
Kitty rose, signing to Celia, and he turned back with them towards the
city, feeling a certain constraint in their company and yet conscious of
a strong relief. It had grown dark when he returned to Nairn's house.
"Where have ye been?" his host inquired. "I had a clerk seeking ye all
round the city. I cannot get ye a boat before the morn."
Carroll saw that Mrs. Nairn shared her husband's desire to learn how he
had been occupied. Evelyn was also in the room.
"There were one or two little matters that required attention, and I
managed to arrange them satisfactorily," he said. "Among other things,
I've got a tug and I expect to sail in an hour or two. Miss Horsfield
found me the vessel."
He noticed Evelyn's interest, and was rather pleased to see it. If she
were disposed to be jealous of Jessie, it could do no harm. Nairn,
however, frowned.
"I'm thinking it might have been better if ye had not troubled Jessie,"
he commented.
"I'm sorry I can't agree with you," Carroll retorted. "The difference
between this evening and noon to-morrow is a big consideration."
"Weel," said Nairn resignedly, "I canna deny that."
Carroll changed the subject, but some time later Mrs. Nairn sat down
near him in the temporary absence of her husband and Evelyn.
"We will no be disturbed for two or three minutes," she said. "Ye
answered Alec like a Scotsman before supper and put him off the track,
though that's no so easy done."
"You're too complimentary," he declared. "The genuine Caledonian caution
can't be acquired by outsiders. It's a gift."
"I'll no practise it now," said the lady. "Ye'er no so proud of yourself
for nothing. What have ye been after?"
Carroll crossed his finger tips and looked at her over them. "Since you
ask the question, I may say this: If Miss Chisholm has two lady visitors
during the next few days, you might make sure she sees them."
"What are their names?"
"Miss Hartley, the daughter of the prospector who sent Vane off to look
for the timber; Miss Blake who, as you have probably heard, once came
down the west coast with him, in company with an elderly lady and
myself."
Mrs. Nairn started; then she looked thoughtful, and finally broke into a
smile of open appreciation.
"Now," she said, "I understand. I did not think it of ye. Ye're no far
from a genius."
"Thanks," said Carroll modestly. "I believe I succeeded better than I
could have expected, and perhaps than I deserved."
Then they were interrupted, for Nairn walked hastily into the room.
"There's one of the Atlin's deck hands below," he announced. "He's come
on here from Horsfield's to say the boat's ready with a full head of
steam up, and the packers ye hired are waiting on the wharf."
Carroll rose and became in a moment intent and eager. "Tell him I'll be
down almost as soon as he is," he said. "You'll have to excuse me."
Two minutes later, he left the house, and fervent good wishes followed
him from the party on the stoop. He did not stop to acknowledge them,
but shortly afterwards the blast of a whistle came ringing across the
roofs from beside the water-front.